


You Can Ring My Bell

by DesignatedGrape



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, M/M, POV Inanimate Object
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesignatedGrape/pseuds/DesignatedGrape
Summary: Patrick walked into the stockroom to retrieve a towel to dry off the over-spritzed vegetables, and allowed himself exactly ten seconds to silently explode with joy. When his ten seconds were up, Patrick took a deep breath and opened his eyes, and his gaze landed on a sealed cardboard box sitting on the desk."A bell," David had said a few weeks ago. "We need a bell for the door."A 5+1 from the POV of the Rose Apothecary bell.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 34
Kudos: 97





	You Can Ring My Bell

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a line in [The last first kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705812/chapters/65144677) by [poutini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poutini/pseuds/Poutini) where Patrick pushes David against the Apothecary door, and the bell “lets out a jingle of surprise.” I read it late at night, got to thinking about the bell having feelings, and here we are.
> 
> A million thanks to [yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau) for cheerleading me into having the courage to post this. This is my first-ever fic.

**1.**

The bell rang urgently as Stevie pushed open the door to Rose Apothecary, and observed helplessly as David and Patrick once again failed to emerge from behind the stockroom curtain. Stevie dropped her bag of strawberries on the counter and moved towards the rear of the store, attempting a poor imitation of the bell’s own vibrant tones in what was undoubtedly going to be a failed attempt at summoning… Oh.

David quickly appeared behind the cash with hair slightly askew, tugging down his sweater. The bell scoffed at his unprofessionalism and watched disdainfully as David spoke with Stevie briefly until, thank goodness, Patrick joined him. The bell was sure that the steadier, more business-minded partner would be in a more appropriate state to greet a customer, even if it was just Stevie.

... _ A HICKEY_?! Ugh. Maybe not. 

This was getting out of hand. For the last several weeks, David and Patrick hadn’t been able to keep their hands--or lips--off each other, and frankly, the bell was tired of being the responsible one. They had been interrupted eleven times by customers, four times by Stevie (actually, make that five times, now), two times by Alexis, and one  _ very _ unfortunate time by Roland. 

The bell would be happy to forget that conversation as soon as possible, thank you.

But, by the grace of Stevie, it seemed that there might be some actual privacy to be had that night. The bell jingled a cheerful goodbye as Stevie left with her strawberries in hand, pleased that order at the shop would be restored for at least a little while. The bell looked back at the area behind the cash, just in time to see David smirk at Patrick and playfully tug him behind the curtain again.

The bell heaved a metaphorical sigh. This was going to be another long afternoon.

**2.**

The bell clanged in annoyance as Patrick exited the store and closed the door behind him. 

“Um, while you’re at lunch, can you get me some lunch?” Unbelievable, indeed. The bell couldn't have said it better itself. 

The bell watched protectively as Patrick crossed the street to the cafe, moving with a spring in his step that had been conspicuously absent for the past week. It had spent the last seven days watching Patrick wander apathetically around the store, force smiles onto his face when customers came in, and spend any down time either frantically typing and clicking on his laptop or resting his head heavily on his hands, staring blankly into space.

The bell turned its attention back to David. He was gazing down at the table as he continued to restock jars of cream, smiling widely, eyes glassy. Well. Maybe Patrick wasn’t the only one who had had a hard week, after all. Still, the bell wasn’t ready to forgive David quite yet.

The men moved around each other carefully for the rest of the day, exchanging glances and gentle barbs, with occasional tentative brushes of a hand across a shoulder or a lower back. Things certainly weren't back to normal, but the bell had to admit that the atmosphere in the store had improved dramatically. 

At closing time, the bell saw Patrick approaching to lock the door, but behind him, rather than starting closing tasks, David was reaching for one of the chairs near the shelves on the side wall. He gestured for Patrick to sit down and headed to the back.

The unmistakable sound of Tina Turner suddenly filled the space, and David turned back to Patrick, eyes closed and shoulders shimmying slightly. Oh, god. Was he  _ dancing_? Sort of. He was sort of dancing. This was horrifying. The bell wished desperately that it could run away from the epic embarrassment unfolding before it, but it was literally bolted to its spot. What was David _thinking_? What must _ Patrick _ be thinking? The bell couldn’t see Patrick’s face, but how could this possibly be construed as a _gift_? 

The song and accompanying horror show mercifully ended several minutes later, with David dropping to his knees and  _ (shudder) _ air drumming to the last few notes. To the bell’s shock, Patrick threw his arms in the air in triumph, before pulling David up and into his lap. David smiled broadly as he leaned in to rub his nose against Patrick’s, before fully closing the distance and kissing him deeply.

Well. To each his own.

**3.**

The bell dinged with frustration as Alexis entered the store. It was another quiet day at Rose Apothecary, made even quieter by David's absence. The bell was worried about this startling absence of customers, and yet Patrick had spent most of the last 30 minutes making uncomfortable faces at his phone while texting some unknown person, rather than doing any actual work. And now he seemed to be shopping. 

At the sound of the bell's alert, Patrick turned from where he was standing near the baskets of produce, his hands full of celery, carrots, onions, and parsley.

"Oh, hey Alexis."

"Heyyy. Love this look for you." She gestured limply to the vegetables in his hands. "What's this all about?" Patrick chuckled.

"I'm making my mom's chicken soup for David after work today. Did he not tell you he was sick?"

"Mhmm, mhmm. Yes, I definitely remember that now. That was like, so sweet of your mom to give you the recipe for David." 

Patrick stiffened slightly, the movement so minute that Alexis probably didn't notice. But the bell knew better. It had been watching Patrick for over a year now, and he always reacted in this same way whenever David was talking with Mrs. Brewer on the store phone. The bell was perplexed.

"Right, yeah." Patrick chuckled awkwardly as he moved to put his purchases on the counter. He leaned back against it, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his too-tight jeans. "She always made it for me when I was sick as a kid, so I thought David might appreciate it."

"So. Cute." Alexis punctuated each word with a boop to Patrick's nose. Ugh. The bell was glad to be out of the range of Alexis's prodding fingers. "So anyway," she continued, "David said that you got some new lip balms in? And I thought I'd just pop by to like, sample them for you and make sure they were--”

“I think we’re good on the lip balms, Alexis. Thanks.” Patrick and the bell both fixed her with unamused stares.

“Right, right. Um, well then, I will just let you get back to it!” she said, dancing backwards towards the door.

“Bye, Alexis,” Patrick said with a smile.

“Bye, Alexis,” the bell chimed.

Once she was out of sight, the bell watched as Patrick turned to place his palms on the counter and dropped his head down to his chest. His phone buzzed on the counter a moment later, and Patrick sighed deeply when he looked at the screen.

“Hi, mom,” he answered. “No, I didn’t have any trouble… Yeah, we had it all here at the store. ...No, no, I haven’t made it yet. I… No, it’s David’s day off, so he can’t close up for me. But really, I’m not sick. ...Yeah, it’s just chilly here today and I thought it might be nice to have some soup. ...Right, I will. ...Okay. ...Okay. Thanks, mom. Love you.”

Patrick tapped his phone to end the call and tucked it into his back pocket. He walked around the counter to ring up the vegetables, and then carried them into the stockroom, presumably to pack up to bring home later. The bell looked on with confusion. Perhaps there was more to be concerned about today than a lack of customers.

**4.**

The bell sang out joyfully for at least the thirtieth time that day. As the customer exited the store, the bell thought to itself how lucky David and Patrick were to have Jocelyn joining them for the day. The bell hadn’t been this busy in months! It wiggled with excitement as it listened in to the conversation between the two men, hoping that Patrick could convince David to keep Jocelyn on permanently. 

Suddenly, a cacophonous clanging cut into the bell’s revelry, forcing its attention over to where Jocelyn was standing behind the cash.

_ What. Was. That. _

Jocelyn was holding a shiny brass abomination, shaking it vigorously while wearing a gleeful smile. 

“Another sale, boys!” The bell whipped back accusingly to David and Patrick. The looks on both of their faces told the bell immediately that this had  _ not _ been a pre-approved creative decision. Things were starting to look decidedly less rosy. 

And so passed the rest of the day: each time the bell tried to thank a customer for stopping in, its dulcet tinkling adieu was steamrolled by the racket emanating from Jocelyn’s handheld monstrosity. When the last customer of the day was finally out the door, the bell watched mournfully as David grudgingly offered Jocelyn a position on staff, and jingled with relief when she turned it down and exited the store. 

But, wait. Wait. 

What was David holding? Had she left… Oh. Oh, no.  _ Absolutely _ not.

...Perhaps the wooden handle would help facilitate burning it in a fire.

**5.**

The bell chimed in protest as Patrick bumped David up against the outside of the door to Rose Apothecary. The two men laughed and shushed each other while trading kisses through smiling lips, and Patrick held tight to the lapels of David’s suit as David reached behind himself to turn the knob and move the pair backwards into the shop. The bell rang out again as the door swung open, welcoming them back and congratulating the newly-minted husbands. 

They broke apart after one more soft peck, and the bell watched Patrick walk behind the counter to flick the lightswitch, illuminating the space with a warm glow from the light fixtures mounted on the wall behind the cash. David pulled out his phone and tapped a few times, setting the phone on the counter as Mariah's voice began to emit from the tiny speaker. 

"’Always Be My Baby’? Really, David?" 

David playfully quirked an eyebrow. "Regrets?" 

Patrick’s face softened with an answering smile and he gently tugged David towards him, wrapping his arms around David’s waist as David's hands settled comfortably at the nape of Patrick's neck. They pressed their foreheads together as they swayed slowly to the music, eyes closed, basking in the comfort and safety of the love they had built together.

Not wanting to intrude on the moment, the bell turned its focus across the street to the cafe, now filled with friends and family for the wedding reception. The bell took in the beauty of the light spilling through the front windows and glittering on the wet pavement outside, until the view was abruptly interrupted by Alexis barging through the front door of the cafe. The bell watched her march purposefully across the street _(Was she wearing a wedding dress? Rude.)_ , but her stride slowed as she approached the store. When Alexis reached the sidewalk, she paused for a moment with a soft smile on her face, and then turned back to the cafe. 

The bell agreed: whatever had seemed so important could wait. They had a lifetime to get to it.

**(+1)**

Patrick walked into the stockroom to retrieve a towel to dry off the over-spritzed vegetables, and allowed himself exactly ten seconds to silently explode with joy. Finally, finally, _finally_ , he and David were going on a date. Patrick had asked, and David had said yes, and the only thing stopping Patrick from absolutely dying from simultaneous relief and excitement was that he had a date to go on. Tonight. With David. 

When his ten seconds were up, Patrick took a deep breath and opened his eyes, and his gaze landed on a sealed cardboard box sitting on the desk.

"A bell," David had said a few weeks ago. "We need a bell for the door." It had taken David such an endearingly long time to find a bell that correctly matched the store’s aesthetic that the package hadn’t arrived until after their semi-firm-but-definitely-not-hard launch. The tape on the box crinkled as Patrick cut through it, and the light filtering through the stained glass window reflected warmly off the copper bell as Patrick lifted it out of its packaging.

Abandoning the wet vegetables for the moment, Patrick retrieved the old toolbox and wobbly stepladder from the corner of the stockroom, tucked the bell gently under his arm, and pushed through the curtain to the main shop floor.

David looked up as Patrick returned, and Patrick’s breath caught at the sight of David’s sparkling dark eyes and soft, sideways smile. Patrick cleared his throat surreptitiously to regain his bearings and held up the toolbox.

“I found the new bell while I was back there. I thought I would install it now before the lunch rush.”

“Oh, yeah, great. Thanks. I’ll just, uh, go pick up a coffee and get out of your way.”

“What? No, you’re not--”

“No, I know, it’s just that--” David gestured fluidly to the large white heart graffitied on his sweatshirt “--Acne Studios and construction projects do  _ not _ mix, so I’m just gonna…” He thumbed awkwardly at the door as he inched sideways towards it.

“Mhmm.” Patrick did his best to keep his face neutral, but his heart thumped at the ramblings of this beautiful, ridiculous man. “Wanna get me a tea while you’re out?”

“Yes. Yup. I can do that.” David nodded rapidly as his pace towards the door quickened, and he exited with one more warm glance back at Patrick.

Patrick watched affectionately for a moment as David walked towards the cafe, before turning back to his task. He set up the ladder and his tools, measured twice, drilled once, and then carefully descended the ladder and opened the door to test his handiwork. The bell jingled at him cheerfully, and Patrick smiled to himself. 

Today was going to be a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau) for also letting me borrow the idea of Patrick making Marcy’s chicken soup for David. They mentioned it in their lovely fic [With only dreams of you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26637469).


End file.
